Kings Canyon/Sequoia trip (prologue) – Some effects of pandemic on traveling – Mask mandate in California
It may seem odd, in a journal devoted to the effects of a pandemic (albeit at this point in what are presumably its recovery phases) to launch into a description of a group hiking trip. But it is actually more applicable than may appear at first glance, for two reasons: first, it is not a bad representation of the sort of activities that people as a whole are doing during the lifting of COVID-related restrictions as travel becomes more frequent and, second, it illustrates how the pandemic is still affecting vacations of this sort, as will appear below.
In the first place, the pandemic had a direct impact on how we, as a group, were forced to make special efforts to coordinate our excursions. The trip took place in the Kings Canyon/Sequoia National Parks and originally LM, the trip organizer, had arranged for some members of the group to stay in the park’s lodge and others to stay in the cabins nearby. But shortly before the trip, he was notified that the cabins would not be available on account of the restrictions imposed by the virus. Adjustments therefore had to be made. A few people brought their tents and used one of the park’s campsites, while five others (I among them) stayed in a house that EF and MJ were able to select via Airbnb. We met each day in the Grant Grove Visitor Center. The walk to the Center from the lodge was only a few minutes, the walk from the campsite was somewhat longer, and the drive from the house was about 25 minutes. It was a minor inconvenience, to be sure, but it had the effect of splitting the group into three subgroups, as far as after-hike activities were concerned. Those who stayed in the lodge had the option of showering immediately after the daily hike before celebrating at the picnic tables on the lodge grounds, but those in the other two subgroups did not; and as a result we did not always congregate together after the daily hike ended, as is our usual custom on such trips.
Furthermore, meals – and dinners in particular – presented some challenges. At the best of times the Kings Canyon/Sequoia area does not offer extensive restaurant selections. The nearest town is Dunlap, which constitutes a drive of about ½ hour, and it contains three places that serve food; there is a fourth eatery somewhat closer to the park (and extremely close to the house that five of us were occupying). The drives to the various trailheads were frequently long and tiring, and the designated drivers of the vans we rented were understandably reluctant to drive further after the daily hike was completed. At this point, however, the facility at the Visitor Center offers takeout only, and it is minimally staffed. One placed an order electronically from a kiosk, after which orders were be picked up by the customers on an individual basis as each one was separately prepared. It was not a very efficient process for a group of over twenty people.
None of these circumstances, of course, were serious drawbacks; they could easily be overcome with a little patience, and they did not substantially impinge upon our enjoyment of what the park had to offer. Ostensibly Kings Canyon and Sequoia are two separate parks, but they are contiguous and they are administered together by the National Park Service. They were both established in 1890, but the Kings Canyon Park was originally much smaller and was expanded to its current size only in 1940. It contains some of the steepest vertical relief in North America. Much of it is designated as wilderness and not accessible by roads. Sequoia, of course, is noted for its numerous giant redwoods (although there are several in Kings Canyon as well). The descriptions of the individual hikes that we did over the week will have to be deferred until I have the leisure to do them justice; suffice it to say that all of them were enticing and some of them quite memorable. Detailed descriptions will follow in due course.
The other aspect of the trip worth noting is the effect of the pandemic on California generally, or at any rate the area that we visited. It has been hit harder than the DC metro area. Non-essential travel is discouraged and in some cases proof of vaccination may be required (although none of us on the Kings Canyon/Sequoia trip were asked to provide any). The mask mandate is still in effect until the 15th, and people for the most part were wearing masks even out of doors. We did not wear masks on our hikes, but we did use them in the courtyard of the Visitor Center, as well as for any store that we entered. The final day of our trip was spent in Millbrae, which is part of the greater San Francisco area, and it is apparent that many businesses have closed, not to re-open in the distant future.
Internet access was extremely limited during this trip, and as a result I was unable to track daily virus updates. These are the results as of 10:30 PM today:
# of cases worldwide: 176,713,470; # of deaths worldwide: 3,819,300; # of cases U.S.: 34,321,158; # of deaths; U.S.: 615,053. The U.S. is now ranked 14th in highest number of cases per 1,000,000 of population and 20th in mortality rate, a significant improvement in both measurements.
The pace of vaccinations, regrettably, has slowed down. At this point nearly 87% (5 out of 6) of all seniors have received at least one dose and 76.2% are fully vaccinated. These are encouraging figures for the segment of the population most susceptible for the disease. For adults generally, 64.4% have received at least one dose and 54.1% are fully vaccinated, which is less of an increase since June 4th than one would have hoped. The Southern and Western states appear to be laggards in this respect.
6/5/2021 – 6/13/2021 (continued)
Details of the Kings Canyon/Sequoia Trip
Day 1 (6/5):
Since the pandemic is waning, travel is very much on the increase. At this stage the conditions at Dulles airport provided the same chaotic confusion that I had formerly known and dreaded. Still, the check-in process was efficient, and it did not take more than 25 minutes between my entering the airport and passing through check-in and security to arrive at the gate. Everyone was masked, but social distancing was not possible until the circumstances; the lines for the check-in kiosks and for going through security were as densely packed as they had been previously. I brought copies of my vaccination card in case proof of vaccination was needed, but no one asked me to produce them.
The flight was comfortable and I was rather surprised at how easily I adjusted to travel by plane after such a long hiatus. The five of us renting the house outside of the park drove together in the same van. The drive from the airport to the house was well over four hours. But it passed through interesting country, a part of the agricultural section of California that produces so much fruit and vegetables for the entire nation. Many crops were bearing fruit: grapes, apricots, almonds. We stopped at a fruit stand, where we picked up some fresh produce, including some delicious nectarines and avocados. We dined in Fresno, at an excellent place that is a fish market as well as a restaurant. The swordfish I ordered was fresh, firm-fleshed but tender, and not in the least overcooked. Although masks were required in the stores and the fruit stands, no one was wearing a mask in the restaurant, not even the servers.
From there we proceed to the house, which was somewhat small and not without various inconveniences. Lighting, for instance, was rather scanty in every room except the kitchen. But I had a bit of luck: I had expected to be roughing it by sleeping on a couch in the living room, as per the original arrangement. We discovered, however, that there was a fold-out bed in a little room (barely more than an alcove) adjoining the main bedroom. It was a bit lumpy, but it was certainly preferable to the prospect of sleeping in the living room, in which I would be continually be at risk to be awakened by anyone who needed to go to the bathroom during the night or to the kitchen in the early morning.
We were extremely fortunate in our weather, not only for the day but for the entire week. It was in the 60s and 70s most of the time, perhaps somewhat cooler at higher elevations; but the temperatures for the following week were projected to reach the triple-digit range and well beyond. People may talk as much as they please about humidity being the most difficult aspect of summer weather to cope with; whether the heat is dry or moist, hiking on days when the thermometer exceeds 100 degrees is not to be recommended.
Day 2 (6/6):
For our first hiking day we went on the Redwood Canyon loop, which actually consists of two adjoining loops, the Sugar Bowl loop and the Hart loop. The Sugar Bowl loop begins with a continual but well-graded climb for about 2½ miles through numerous groves of young sequoias. I was continually stopping to take photos, not only of the majestic trees, but of the numerous wildflowers and of the views into the canyon below. The hike then descends to Redwood Canyon, crosses the stream that meanders through, and continues with the Hart loop, a somewhat steeper ascent that continues for 2 miles and contains a passage through a hollowed-out trunk of a sequoia to pass through – which all but the tallest hikers can do without stooping. Then there is another descent to the canyon and a final climb back to the parking area. Officially the distance is 10 miles for the two loops combined, but everyone’s measuring device recorded distances between 11 and 12 miles. My guess is that it is really about 11½ miles, with something over 2100 feet of elevation gain.
It was a hike that appealed to other senses besides mere sight alone. Birds caroled continually as we passed through the glades and numerous scents wafted through the air, depending on the vegetation: resinous pine, smoky wood from trees partly burned by past fires (sequoias have very thick bark and in consequence are not readily killed by forest fires), and one plant whose leaves suffused the air with a scent that vaguely resembled steamed artichokes. The Hart loop contains the Hart Tree, one of the largest trees in the world. The hike was not without its little adventures: for instance, at one point during the descent in the Sugar Bowl loop there was a fallen sequoia trunk that stretched directly across the path. One either had to go around it in an area strewn with scree and fallen branches or to walk along the trunk itself and then leap down on the farther side; I chose the second option.
It took some time to drive to the hike and since we ended late, the five of us in the rented house returned directly from the park to the local tavern about ½ mile from our place. The food was of good though not outstanding quality. We chatted a bit with the restaurant owner, who has a curious history. He grew up in the area and was a fire-fighter in the park service for several years before acquiring the restaurant, which was a family business. He had much to tell us about the attractions of the park and about its natural history, and he strenuously urged us to sample the Mineral King area. But when we returned to the house and did a little research, we rejected the suggestion, since it would have involved a drive of nearly three hours each way.
Day 3 (6/7):
This day consisted of various little hikes:
- Moro Rock
This is a heavily trafficked hike about 1 mile round trip. As a hike it is somewhat disappointing, consisting chiefly of a long stone staircase that goes up the rock for about 200 feet. But the rock itself is impressive: a large granite dome that looms above its surroundings, thrusting above the tree canopy and providing untrammeled views of the San Joaquin Valley and the peaks of the Great Western Divide in the distance.
- Hanging Rock
A fairly gentle trail leads to a boulder balanced on the rim of the large canyon carved by the Middle Fork of the Kaweah River. The rim featured a high point on a sloping boulder whose top surface is several dozen feet above Hanging Rock itself, which I ascended and from that viewpoint took photos of the others in the group assembling at Hanging Rock.
- Eagle View
This 180-degree view is reached by going on the High Sierra Trail for about 1½ miles, again ascending rather gradually to a lookout into the Kings Canyon Wilderness and (appropriately enough) the high sierra.
- General Sherman/Congress Trail
The hike passed by numerous sequoias of mammoth proportions. General Sherman is the largest tree in the park; by volume, it is the largest living single-stem tree on the planet. Estimates of its age range from 2,300 years to 3,700. The tree is said to be named by James Wolverton, a naturalist who actually served as a lieutenant under Sherman during the Civil War (but this story may be apocryphal). The Congress Trail, whose trailhead is is adjacent to tree, passes by numerous other exceptionally large sequoias that are named after various presidents and other political figures.
- Topokah Falls
This was the best hike of the day, consisting of a moderate ascent towards the base of the falls, the tallest in Sequoia Park, going alongside a limpid stream that is of a dazzling turquoise color in some areas. The falls consists of a series of steep cascades. The trail actually comes to an end several feet above the base itself, and the trek down there is a bit of a scramble – but well worth the effort. The last half-mile goes through a rocky moraine of a U-shaped canyon.
The total mileage for the day was about 11 miles and perhaps about 2000 feet. Afterwards we all congregated at the picnic tables close to the lodge for our “happy hour,” where we shared various items of food and drink such as nuts and cheeses and chocolate and chips and crackers and meats and various fruits of the earth (grape juice being resoundingly included in that category). Then we had dinner at the Visitor Center’s takeout place, the drawbacks of which I have already mentioned. But the food itself was acceptable, and in any case we didn’t need much after what we had previously consumed.
Day 4 (6/8):
Since we didn’t wish to do much driving, the hikes today started from Grant Grove Village, where the lodge and Visitor Center are located. We all started together along the Manzanita Trail, a moderate climb up to the junction with a trail to Panoramic Point. Most of the group went immediately to the Point, but a sub-group detached itself to make an additional there-and-back excursion to the Park Ridge fire tower. This option was delightful. It led up upward for about a mile to the tower, which was manned and in operation, and was open to visitors. The people at the tower were two brothers, who were volunteers, whose job was to watch for and triangulate outbreaks of fire during the summer months. They had made themselves at home in the little office at the top of the tower, with a dog and an African gray parrot for company. I thought at first they might object to our intruding upon them, but in fact they welcomed visitors warmly and engaged in conversation with us for about ½ hour. They asked which hikes we had done and which we were planning to do. When I mentioned that we were planning to go to Alta Peak they appeared impressed. “You’re real hikers!” was their response. Perhaps we bore out this observation by our choice of doubling back; the book recommends using the fire road to return to the junction but we used the same ridge trail by which we came, on the grounds that it was more interesting, as well as being more direct, than the gentler but more closed-in fire road.
From there we went on to Panoramic Point, providing extensive views of the Sierra Nevada and the Snow Range. Numerous spire-like peaks jutted out in the distance across the canyon, while on the floor of the valley we observed Hume Lake, pellucid and blue, lined with tall pines and firs (reconstituted groves, for the area was heavily exploited for lumber until the mid-20th century). From there we continued past the parking area along the North Boundary Trail, which was fairly rough and overgrown but which appeared almost like a road in comparison with what followed.
Just before the trail crossed the highway, there was a junction with the Crystal Springs Trail, along which we proceeded. It appeared fairly rudimentary even at the beginning, but as we pushed on we found that the trail simply petered out and that we were forced to bushwhack. We never were at any great distance from nearby roads and there was little danger of getting lost, but our progress was slow and we encountered several obstacles that were rather vexatious. Eventually we came to the road, which we crossed to arrive at a stable, where we confirmed that we were on the correct path to the General Grant tree. This tree is the second largest tree in the world (General Sherman being the first) and has been declared by President Eisenhower to be a National Shrine, a memorial to men and women who died in war – the only living object to be so designated.
After that we took a trail that contained little ascents and descents, eventually going through the campground back to the Visitor Center. The hike was comparable in effort to that of yesterday’s conglomerate, about 11 miles and 2000 feet of elevation gain. The end of the day was similar to yesterday’s, with a “happy hour” that lasted well over two hours and another dinner ordered from the Visitor Center. In fact, when those of us using the house returned to eat the food we had taken out, I found that I had eaten so much already that I did not need any more for the evening and I packed the sandwich I had acquired to use for lunch on the following day.
Day 5 (6/9):
The hikes up to this point were attractive, even inspiriting, with glimpses of unique vegetation, cascades, canyons, mountain summits, ravines, gorges, tarns – but they were not especially challenging. The hike to Alta Peak provided a dramatic contrast. Only five of us attempted it; the others went (starting at the same trailhead) to a series of mountain lakes – which in itself was quite strenuous, amounting to 14 miles round trip and about 3000 feet of elevation gain. The hike to the peak is about a mile longer and ascends slightly under 4000 feet in all. However, the last 2000 feet of elevation gain is completed during the final 2 miles, at the highest altitude. Many use two days to complete this hike, climbing up to Alta Meadow on the first day, camping overnight, and going up to the peak on the second day. Alta Peak itself is slightly over 11,000 high. GC, who lives in Park City, is somewhat more acclimatized to such elevations, but the four of us who were low-landers felt the effects of the thinner air as we ascended.
The hike begins by trailing through dense forest, chiefly of red fir, with its distinctive purplish bark and bristly needles. The ascent is fairly gentle for a couple of miles, then it becomes steeper until it leads to Panther Gap, an open space revealing views south over Kaweah Canyon and the Castle Rocks formation. At this point the trail emerges from forest and goes along a fairly level section along the side of the canyon, then back into forest again and ascending relatively gently to the junction with the trail to Alta Meadow. At this point the grade becomes much steeper and eventually the path passes above treeline onto granite, strewn with scree, its stark bareness relieved by only a few hardy alpine flowers emerging between cracks on the rocky surface. The wind blew fiercely as we ascended, with no vegetation to mitigate it. The trail passes by a rock formation called Tharp’s Rock and climbs above its apex. Although the rock pile of the peak appeared to be nearby, it still took many minutes to reach as we continued to ascend along the slope in the face of the steadily blowing wind.
Once we reached the pile, there was a brief scramble to reach the top, with the geodesic stamp at the topmost point. From there we had unparalleled views of the Great Western Divide and, just visible beyond it, of Mount Whitney. The vista, in fact, comprises about half of the entire park. Some have declared that the views are as good from Alta Peak as they are from Mount Whitney. To the north we could see Kings Canyon and to the south was Kaweah Canyon, whose base (which we could see clearly) was 9000 feet below the point where we were standing. The intricately carved surfaces of the canyon walls were eloquent testimony to the glacial activity that took place over time. The ridgeline at some of the highest points of the summits had a razor-like sharpness. The wind was so fierce that we could stay on the top only briefly; for lunch we went down a little via the north escarpment, where we could get a clear view of Pear Lake (which was one of the lakes included on the hike that the others did).
Going down was relatively uneventful, although I did meet two young men who planned to camp at Alta Meadow and to attempt the peak on the following day. They asked me if I had gone beyond the pike itself, and I was forced to say that I did not. I did not see how it was physically possible to do so, since it is a sheer drop in every direction except for the one that we used to approach the peak. It was cool in the parking area as we waited for everyone to assemble and gray cloud was closing in on us by the time we left to drive back, but happily no rain ensued.
For dinner the five of us renting the house went to the tavern nearby; again, the food was of reasonable quality but the service that night was abominable, with at least 30 minutes elapsing between making our selections and being served the food that we ordered.
Day 6 (6/11):
On this day we went to the end of Kings Canyon and proceeded to Mist Falls, where the south fork of the Kings River drops 100 feet over a steep, rocky, granite incline. The trail is (nominally) about 9 miles there-and-back, but most of us added a loop at the beginning that goes along the river through a band of forest. The river itself is exceptionally clear, and of a bright green color that at times deepens to emerald. The ascent is moderate for the most part, getting rather steep and rocky towards the end, although not at all as difficult as the ascent to Alta Peak (nor, I suspect, the ascent along the trail to the lakes that the others used the day before). Some of us lunched at the base of the falls; others (I among them) preferred to go to the top and look downwards, where we had a clear view not only of the water cascading below but of the length of the river gorge beyond.
Afterwards we drove back to the lodge for happy hour. Since those who had rooms in the lodge planned to shower first, the five of us renting the house deliberately delayed along the way, stopping for ice cream at one place on the road. This concession stand was on a lot that contained a sign advertising lodging and meals, but we could discern no facilities of that nature; and upon inquiring, we learned that the lodge that had formerly been standing there was burnt down by a forest fire six years ago.
The happy hour was relatively brief that day, and we went on to eat at a restaurant in Dunlap, which has the most extensive menu by far of any eating place in the area. The meal was surprisingly good, and the service was excellent.
Day 7 (6/11):
For this day, like the second one, we also used a series of short hikes:
- Big Baldy
This hike went mainly along a ridge, fairly gently for the most part, going up 600 feet in the course of 2¼ miles to the top of a granite dome. It was a good viewing place after having done the preceding hikes, which gave us many points of reference. In particular, we had extensive views into Redwood Canyon, where we had hiked the first day.
The trail continued for about ¾ mile to another dome called Chimney Rock. None of the others wished to go there, but I was curious enough to venture forward. It was worth the effort: the views of the canyon thus obtained were from a different angle and it was diverting to see the others on Big Baldy appear like tiny colored dots in the distance.
- Buena Vista
Buena Vista is another dome, nearly level at the top, with numerous large boulders to sit upon. The views are similar to those of Big Baldy. Big Baldy is about 500 higher, but the two are sufficiently far apart so that they do not obscure the views from their summits. We had lunch in this area.
- Little Baldy
Most of the others wished to take it easy today and returned to the lodge after the first two hikes. However, JK, WG, EF, and I wanted to get as much out of the park as we could, so we went up to this dome as well. It is rated as easy but it actually was the most difficult of the three. Little Baldy ascends about 1000 feet in elevation but most of the climb is within the first ¾ mile and is fairly steep, despite the switchbacks. At the top we gazed upon Mount Silliman and the Great Western Divide, and we also spotted Alta Peak, which appeared like a tiny cap on top one of the summits. To the west we looked over mountain ranges into the foothills. Regrettably the air was getting hazy, so the photos we took at this point are less impressive than those we took at the other two domes.
For this hike we experienced what I called a “bonus.” During the ascent we passed by two young women who were going at a somewhat slower pace than we were. They were in good physical condition, trim-waisted and reasonably muscular, but clearly they were not used to this type of exercise. After we had stayed on the summit for some minutes and turned to begin our descent, we encountered the two women as they were just coming up to the top. One of them greeted us quite cheerily with “Hello, in-shape people!” It was pleasant to hear such words from someone perhaps 40 years younger than myself.
When we all assembled back at the lodge, the happy hour was an exceptionally joyous one. We were exalting in the fact that we could now travel and feast together in this manner, without fear of infection or debilitating illness, after a hiatus of more than a year and a half. I called this occasion an “anti-COVID” and all agreed that it was the right term to use.
Two members of the group were departing the lodge that night, which meant that JK and WG, who were among the five using the house, could sleep in the lodge instead. They took advantage of the opportunity, despite the fact that it entailed packing a second time. Their choice was understandable; the bunk beds that they occupied had no ladder or stepping stool for reaching the upper bunk and the room in which they were located was very small, necessitating their using the living room to store their luggage. They therefore dined with the others at the lodge that evening, while EF, MJ, and I returned to the restaurant in Dunlap.
Day 8 (6/12):
Since there were only three of us in the house at this point and we had been getting up early all week, we were able to begin the drive back to the hotel close to the airport by 7:30, without making any effort to hurry. EF and MJ were planning to visit relatives in the afternoon, while I myself wished to spend a few hours in San Francisco; so we had no objection to arriving at the hotel early, even if it meant stowing our luggage there and checking in later in the evening. As matters turned it, that was not necessary; we were able to enter our rooms upon our arrival, which occurred just before noon. We made a brief stop on the way, selecting another fruit stand. I picked up some almonds and pistachios there, as well as a small bag of Rainier cherries.
Millbrae, where the hotel is located, appears to contain a number of hotels for use by travelers who wish to stay close to the airport, and as a result it has a BART station, from which it is possible to ride directly into San Francisco itself. I went there without any particular plans in mind. I wished merely to wander about and enjoy the sights of the city for a few hours. It is perhaps one of the best walking cities in the nation. My navigations were anything but thorough, and yet I walked for about eight miles in all, getting off at the Embarcadero station, going along the wharf for several blocks, then up Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower (which unfortunately was closed but good views were available even at its base), then along to Washington Square and Little Italy and Chinatown (where I had some dim sum for dinner) and Market St. and Valencia St., making my way back to the station at 16th and Mission St., and returning thence to Millbrae.
It is as exhilarating as ever, changing in character almost from one block to the next, with numerous weekend celebrations going on in various corners. Many were picnicking on the lawn of Washington Square and the restaurants along Valencia Street appeared to be operating at full capacity. Two young men performed a demonstration in Chinatown, donning dragon’s-head costumes and displaying various movements for the amusement of the crowds and of the children in particular.
But amid all of these demonstrations of easy and careless merriment there were signs that the city has suffered during the pandemic. Several businesses were boarded up, and there are no signs of their re-opening at any time in the near future. There were many more homeless people than I remembered from previous visits. San Francisco has always had a sizable number of homeless on its streets, but it was my impression – and I may be mistaken, for it is many years since I last visited the city – that there were more of them than I had seen on earlier visits and that they are in worse condition: more obviously under-nourished, more despondent in bearing.
On returning to the hotel I sat with some of the others in the pool area during the evening. The pool was closed on account of the pandemic restrictions, but we could sit on the chairs underneath the canopies in the tranquil setting of the courtyard surrounded by clusters of roses and oleander. We had an animated discussion on numerous topics. ML and JF, who have had extensive experience in hospital work, spoke about the stresses that nurses have been undergoing during the pandemic, which are driving them to the point of exhaustion. I mentioned to JF how my cousin, who is an operating room (OR) nurse, prefers to be assisting in even the most distressing operations than dealing with the emotional stress of attending patients in a hospital room, and she nodded in immediate comprehension.
In the course of the conversation ML mentioned how a description in the hiking book directs user to “wind” up a certain path; and that there was no way outside of context to tell whether this word referred to an air movement or to traversing a curving route. From here we went on to a discussion of the difficulties of the English language generally; and since I have had to devote some study to this matter in college, I was asked to expound on the matter.
English, then, is a rather uneasy marriage of convenience between two greatly different language groups: the original Anglo-Saxon belonging to the Teutonic, or Germanic, branch of the Indo-European language family and the overlaying Norman French being, in essence, a Latin dialect just like Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Romanian, and so on. Although the original Anglo-Saxon provides the roots of less than half of the words in use for modern English, these words are the most basic and most commonly used, and they tend to sound more straightforward than their Latinate equivalents. We place greater value, for instance, on a “hearty welcome” than on a “cordial reception.”
In some ways the enforced melding of two languages with highly dissimilar grammars and syntaxes worked out to the English speakers’ advantage. English grammar is simpler than those of either of its parents. English, for instance, features biological gender; the pronouns “he” and “she” refer almost exclusively to objects that are obviously masculine or feminine. We do not have to puzzle out, as Germans do, as to why “wein” is masculine and “bier” is neuter, why every “katze” – including tomcats – is feminine, or why (perhaps most ridiculous of all) a “mädchen” (maiden) is neuter. Declensions of nouns by case are so simple that the term “declension” is hardly ever mentioned in discussion of English grammar; nouns use the same word whether they are employed as subjects, direct objects, or indirect objects. Articles (“the” and “a”) are not declined at all. Contrast this with German, in which the article for each noun is governed by the noun’s gender and has a different form for each of the four cases in which a noun can be used. In other words, if one wishes to precede a noun with the equivalent of “the” without being aware of the noun’s gender, there are eight possible separate words to choose from, with only one of them being correct. Again, English uses the subjunctive mood far less frequently than French or German, and it is quite possible to dispense with it altogether. No one will be puzzled if an English speaker says “I wish I was” instead of “I wish I were”; the meaning is obvious no matter which option is used.
But gains such as these do not really eliminate the rating of English as “difficult.” English spelling provides almost as little guide to pronunciation as Chinese ideographs. Sometimes the spelling reflects the language’s Germanic roots and sometimes it reflects its Latin roots. “Colonel” is a notorious example of a word in which spelling has not kept up with changes in pronunciation. The word came to English from the mid-16th-century French word “coronelle,” meaning commander of a regiment of soldiers. By the mid-17th century, the spelling and French pronunciation had changed to “colonnel.” In English the spelling was changed but the pronunciation was simply shortened to two syllables.
English is also a great borrower of words from numerous other languages, some of them that do not even use the same alphabet as we do, and there is no attempt to impose any kind of uniformity upon them. Again, “wind” is not the only word that has two different pronunciations with differing sets of definitions. “Read” is an especially confusing word; when it is pronounced like the color “red” it is the past tense of the verb, and when it is pronounced like the “reed” that grows in a river it is the present tense of the same verb. Speaking of definitions, certain words in English can be employed for an astonishing variety of meanings. The Oxford English Dictionary description of the definitions of “set” runs to about 60,000 words, well over the length of several novels.
Then there is the issue of dialects, which we actually did not touch upon and which is too complicated a subject to be described in a few paragraphs. Suffice it to say that when even native speakers of English read fiction by novelists who specialize in regionalized speech, such as Thomas Hardy, a miniature dictionary has to be supplied.
Such was the manner in which we wound up the trip on which we had traveled together. It had been a long time since we had been able to spend our days in this fashion, traveling together, hiking together, eating and drinking together, conversing together. There had been be various meetings among members of the group during the course of the pandemic, but nothing on so large a scale or for such an expanded amount of time. The trip, as I mentioned, was not unaffected by the conditions of the pandemic; but on the whole, I hope, it may be regarded as an indicator that the pandemic is indeed coming to an end.